


the very thought of you

by MissLii



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Famous Harry, Fluff, No Smut, Non-Famous Liam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-29
Updated: 2015-04-29
Packaged: 2018-03-26 05:54:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3839536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissLii/pseuds/MissLii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He startles badly when someone clears their throat. Blood rushes to his cheeks when he opens his eyes, and Harry stands in front of him, looking amused. “What can I do to you?” he blurts out, blushing even harder when he realises what he said. “No, I mean-” He makes an awkward motion with his hand, one meant to point towards the board with what they have to offer, but he mostly waves it around. “What can I get for you?”</p><p>Harry looks like he wants to laugh. Well, he kind of is, but he tries to hide the chuckle behind his hand. Then he coughs, and says, “Just a tea, please. The biggest one you have.”</p><p>Liam nods, grateful that he gets to turn away from Harry. He’s never going to see Harry again, if he doesn’t go to one of his concerts. He shouldn’t care about what kind of impression he makes on him, but he does.</p><p>“Here you go.” Liam hands over the paper mug, careful not to touch Harry’s long - very lovely, his brain adds - fingers as he does.</p><p> </p><p>  <em>Or: Harry is famous, and Liam is not.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	the very thought of you

**Author's Note:**

> Narriam, this one is for you. As a pinch-hitter, I didn't have time to write the 20k version I wanted to of the teacher!Liam prompt. Hopefully this fluffy 5 k fic about famous Harry meeting a very non-famous Liam, will be a little bit what you wanted at least.
> 
> Disclaimer: standard disclaimer. I don't own 1D, never have, never will be.  
> (Also, thanks to M for the help with beta reading. As always, any remaining mistakes are my own.)

Liam’s tired. So, _so_ tired. He’s been working for a long time already, so many hours he’s forgotten when his shift started. Still, he smiles at every customer he serves, tries his hardest to be a good employee.

 

The coffee shop he works at is a bit hipster, and not as sterile as every Starbucks he’s ever been to in his life. His co-workers are nice, and the pay is not too bad - at least not if he counts the tip he manages to get. It’s loud, though, too many people talking over each other for him to think properly.

 

Liam would rather listen to the song blaring out from the speakers, Harry Style’s voice raspy and slow as he sings one of his hits. Knowing he can’t, he forces a smile for the girl in the front of the line, waiting for her to order. He notices her attention is elsewhere, however.

 

She’s sneaking glances behind her, and her cheeks are pink. Also, she doesn’t answer Liam’s question. She seems not to even hear him.

 

“What did you want to order?” he repeats, perplexed by her weird behaviour. Then he notices who’s next in line. Harry Styles, Britain’s biggest name in the music industry, most eligible single, and the voice of the song currently playing on the radio.

 

The girls reaction makes total sense suddenly.

 

If Liam’s hands shake a tiny bit when he serves her, it’s because he’s tired. Absolutely not because he’s close to a celebrity. He works at a coffee shop near a music studio, he’s seen plenty of other famous people. Maybe not as gorgeous as he finds Harry to be, though, with his curls pulled up into a bun, and the birds on his chest showing because of his shirt being open almost all the way down to his belly button

 

No, Liam’s just exhausted. Nothing else.

 

Liam waits for the girl to leave with her steaming hot chai tea, watching as she carefully approaches Harry to ask for an autograph. It doesn’t take long, so unfortunately it only gives him a tiny break from what he’s supposed to do. Even then, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

 

His bed is what he wants most in the world right now. His cosy, warm bed with soft sheets and lovely pillows.

 

He startles badly when someone clears their throat. Blood rushes to his cheeks when he opens his eyes, and Harry stands in front of him, looking amused. “What can I do to you?” he blurts out, blushing even harder when he realises what he said. “No, I mean-” He makes an awkward motion with his hand, one meant to point towards the board with what they have to offer, but he mostly waves it around. “What can I get for you?”

 

Harry looks like he wants to laugh. Well, he kind of is, but he tries to hide the chuckle behind his hand. Then he coughs, and says, “Just a tea, please. The biggest one you have.”

 

Liam nods, grateful that he gets to turn away from Harry. He’s never going to see Harry again, if he doesn’t go to one of his concerts. He shouldn’t care about what kind of impression he makes on him, but he does.

 

“Here you go.” Liam hands over the paper mug, careful not to touch Harry’s long - very lovely, his brain adds - fingers as he does.

 

Harry smiles so wide his dimples pop out, his cheeks round like apples. “You know why you never see a hippopotamus hiding in a tree?” he asks, when Liam’s sure he was about to say _'thank you'_ and leave Liam to mourn how stupid he is in peace.

 

“What?” Liam asks, dumbfounded.

 

“It’s because they’re really good at it,” Harry finishes his own joke, looking pleased with himself.

 

Liam snorts out a laugh, mostly because of how bad the joke was, but he finds it charming. Funny. “I’m sure that’s why,” he answers, tone light.

 

“I’m sure of it.” Harry leans closer to him, as close as the counter between them allows. “It was nice meeting you, Liam.” Harry’s holding up the line, but the people behind him seem mostly as starstruck as Liam himself feels, so they don’t complain.

 

“You know my name?” Liam wonders out loud, feeling an urge to hit himself in the face as soon as the words are out of his mouth. His name is on the nametag on his chest. All customers know his name, if they take their time to look at him.

 

“Yeah.” Harry nods towards his nametag, arching one eyebrow high. He doesn’t say anything, though, and Liam’s grateful for that. “See you again, I hope.” Harry winks. He bloody winks at him, and it’s not smooth at all, more dorky than anything.

 

Liam’s pretty sure he’s being flirted with, but he’s not sure how to react. He’s just a painfully normal twenty-one year-old bloke from Wolverhampton, who must be plain and boring compared to all the celebs Harry probably knows. “Um,” he mumbles, cheeks hot and pink. “Well. I’m here, like, all the time. So.”

 

“Good to know,” Harry murmurs, grinning broadly.

 

Harry takes a step back, and Liam finds it easier to breath as soon as he’s not so close to Harry’s lovely green eyes, sparkling with something that looks like admiration. Harry’s still smiling at him, and it makes his tummy feel fluttery and warm.

 

Liam’s heart beats hard in his chest long after Harry’s left the coffee shop.

 

\- - -

 

Harry does come back. More or less every day, he strolls into the coffee shop, smiling and waving happily at Liam as he waits in line.

 

Liam’s heard so many - sort of bad - jokes, he’s giggling just thinking about Harry. And he spends an awful lot of time thinking about him.

 

“Hi,” Liam mumbles as Harry steps up to the counter. He’s still a bit nervous around Harry. Not as much as before maybe, but still enough to make his tummy feel squirmy. “What’s today’s joke then?”

 

“Well.” Harry pauses to look around the coffee shop, seemingly very interested in the ‘today’s offer’ sign. “I kinda want to take you out. Like, on a date.”

 

“Is that the joke?” Liam’s confused. Harry’s jokes are always fun if a bit weird. This is just weird, and not fun at all.

 

Liam doesn’t understand why Harry would want to make him think that Harry wants to date him, only to not do so, it’s mean and makes him think about when he was a teenager and didn’t have any real friends.

 

“Not a joke,” Harry stresses, words coming out faster than Liam’s used to from him. “So not a joke.”

 

Liam’s never been asked out when working before, and he’s so shocked he almost drops the paper mug he’s got in his hand, halfway into making Harry’s tea. He’s been there so many times now, Liam knows what he wants - what sort of tea he likes best and what kind of muffin he prefers.

 

“Um,” he mumbles, turning towards Harry again. The tea can wait, and so can the customers in line. _“What?_ ”

 

Harry shifts from foot to foot, a nervous tick that doesn’t show on his face. He’s still smiling easily at Liam. “If you want to?”

 

It’s not a hard question to answer. Of course, he wants to. Harry is fun, sings in a way that gives Liam goosebumps and is mind-blowingly hot. The customer next in line is starting to look irritated, so he quickly writes his phone number on the paper mug.

 

“Yes. I would like that,” he answers as he pushes the tea into Harry’s hand, fingertips sliding against the hot skin on the backside of Harry’s hand. His pulse speeds up further when Harry grins at him.

 

“Great,” Harry murmurs, standing there staring at him for too long for it to be anything but obvious.

 

Liam’s happy it’s not just him that’s been crushing on Harry the last few weeks, but he’s still holding up the line. He raises one eyebrow, tilting his head towards the people behind Harry, and laughs softly as Harry shrugs and looks a tiny bit embarrassed. "Call me."

 

\- - -

 

Harry takes him to a small restaurant, one he's never heard of and one he thinks the paps following Harry around a lot of the time don't know about. It's very calm there; the two of them can talk without the usual interruption of customers wanting coffee.

 

Harry managing to trip over a chair, stumble and almost but not quite fall over, makes him feel more at ease at once.

 

It’s nice. Almost too nice, and Liam can’t help to wonder how he became so lucky. He hasn’t had the best of luck when it comes to dating before. And maybe he shouldn’t be so fast to jump for joy - inside, he’s doing it inside of him, would be weird otherwise - they’re not even done with their first date yet.

 

Liam hopes there will be more than just one.

 

Harry’s ordered them pudding, some sort of chocolate dream that melts on Liam’s tongue, and he’s temporarily distracted, sighing happily as he puts another bite of the cake in his mouth.

 

“Stop it,” Harry complains, hands flopping around in the when Liam makes a confused noise. “Stop being so bloody _hot_.”

 

Liam blushes, cheeks a startling pink colour as he shrugs and smiles so big his eyes squeeze into half-moons. “Should I put a paper bag on my head?”

 

“Yeah, please do,” Harry drawls. “Can you do something about your arms, too?”

 

Liam giggles, almost ready to lean forward until he can kiss Harry’s pouty, pink lips. But then he remembers who he’s on a date with, and stays where he is. He’s sure it’s visible in his eyes just how much he would like to kiss Harry, though. It must be because Harry straightens up, and waves for a waiter.

 

“We should have coffee at my place,” Harry suggests, still trying to get some service.

 

Liam laughs, looking at coffee mugs in front of him. They have coffee at the table, and the mugs are almost empty by now. “You’re going to go with _that_ line?”

 

Harry shrugs, not looking ashamed in the slightest. “If you want,” he murmurs, with a voice that sends shivers up Liam’s spine.

 

The drive back to Harry’s flat is too long. It can’t take longer more than half an hour, but it feels like an eternity to Liam. He keeps his hands to himself to make sure they stay on the road. Harry has a hard time focusing as it is, sneaking glances at Liam every free second.

 

Liam bites his lower lip between his teeth, staring out the window in an attempt to distract himself. He wants to kiss Harry and maybe much more than that He knows he can’t do it in public, not without it being front page news the next days if anyone sees them and takes a photo.

 

It’s thrilling, just the thought of doing anything at all with Harry. He’s still nervous, stomach all fluttery and hot, not only with want but with worry too. Mostly he worries that Harry might regret it later, or might only want him for one night.

 

Liam’s sure Harry could have anyone. Someone who’s not working at a coffee shop just because he can’t figure out what he wants to do for the rest of his life.

 

“You’re so quiet,” Harry tells him, as he parks the car in front of a building that’s fancier than anything Liam’s ever visited. Well, except for the Buckingham Palace on a school trip that one time. “I could drive you home if you’d rather?”

 

Liam smiles, pleased that Harry cares enough to ask. He really doesn’t want to go home, though. “Just nervous.”

 

Harry nods, like it makes total sense. But maybe it does, Liam realises, maybe he’s just as nervous as Liam is.

 

Harry kisses him almost as soon as they’re inside the flat, his lips warm and soft against Liam’s. It’s so soft it’s almost chaste, but the hands gripping Liam’s hips just above the hem of his jeans flex against the fabric of his shirt, and it makes him think that even if Harry’s kisses are careful, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t want more.

 

The unhurried pace Harry sets for them is really lovely. Just one soft kiss after another, but Liam’s skin is growing hotter under Harry’s hands, now tracing small patterns on his skin, having slipped up underneath his shirt. Making a small noise in the back of his throat, he pushes himself closer to Harry, and opens his lips to rub his tongue along Harry’s lower lip.

 

Harry pulls away far enough to look at him. “Yeah?”

 

Seeing Harry’s lips, pinker than before, only makes him want it even more. “Please.” He slips his hands up the back of Harry’s black sheer shirt, needing to feel the hot skin underneath his fingertips.

 

Harry’s skin feels wonderful; silky and smooth as he traces his spine. He’s got a hard time keeping his breathing in check, though, as Harry pulls his shirt off. The tattoos on his chest are nothing compared to the ones low on his hips, they make him want to put his mouth there, follow the ink with his tongue until Harry trembles and falls apart.

 

“Let’s go to bed, yeah,” Liam mumbles, voice surprisingly even. He was really nervous before, but it’s like the want has taken over, like he’s got no time to think of what could go wrong.

 

Harry nods eagerly, almost tripping over his own feet in his haste to move from their spot by the door. “Bloody hell,” Harry groans, but he recovers quickly, dragging Liam after himself as he leads the way to the bedroom.

 

\- - -

 

Liam feels disoriented when waking up, nothing looks quite right. First of all, he’s sure his bedroom window isn’t as big as this one. The second thing that registers in his foggy mind is that he’s not alone in bed, that there is someone breathing against his neck.

 

“Oh,” Liam mumbles quietly to himself. Of course, he shouldn’t be surprised that Harry’s still in bed with him, it’s Harry’s bed.

 

He’s still surprised that he’s in Harry’s bed.

 

“Good morning,” Harry mumbles, pressing a soft kiss behind his ear. “I guess it’s my turn to make you tea.”

 

“You expect me to pay you for it?” Liam teases, stretching his limbs out. All of him is warm and comfortable, and he never wants to leave the bed.

 

Harry’s fingers move on his stomach, splays out wide below his belly button. “You can always pay me in kisses,” he suggests, voice rough with sleep.

 

Liam supposes he can’t say no to that.

 

\- - -

 

The next day, he's back at work. He's got plenty of flirty texts on his mobile from Harry, and he's certain Harry wants to see him again.

 

Liam sure as hell wants to see Harry again.

 

He’s probably smiling even more than usual, ridiculously happy considering it’s eight at night. His body is still a bit sore, in the best possible way, and he’s a bit distracted by his own thoughts sometimes.

 

The bloke in front of him, he’s not smiling back, however. His sharp blue eyes scrutinize Liam.

 

“Sir?” Liam asks, even when the man in front of him can’t be much older than him. “Can I take your order?”

 

“Well, I suppose I can understand what he’s on about,” the customer answers, but it’s not an answer to the question Liam’s asked.

 

Liam’s so confused, wondering if he part of some sort of bad joke on the telly. “What?”

 

“What?” the customer repeats, eyes following Liam’s every little move. He has  a hard time standing still with this lad just looking at him like that, all judging and stuff. “Oh right.”

 

Then when Liam didn’t think he could get more confused, he turns and walks out of the coffee shop without ordering anything at all.

 

\- - -

 

Harry’s kitchen is bigger than Liam’s entire flat. It’s much nicer too and has so many things Liam’s got no clue how to use even. Luckily, Harry’s a lot better in the kitchen than him. So he can just walk around and look at things while Harry cooks something that smells wonderful.

 

“So,” Liam says as he sits down on one of the high chairs by the dining table. It’s not very comfortable, but it’s very green and looks nice. _Expensive_. “How’s your new record coming along?”

 

Harry stops stirring in the pot, and he chews on his lower lip as he turns towards Liam. “Um,” he mumbles, looking shifty. It’s like he’s not sure how to answer the question correctly.

 

Liam’s pretty certain he didn’t ask something that needed to make Harry so, well, weird. “What?”

 

“You see,” Harry says slowly. Every word coming out slower than Liam’s used to from him even. “I’m done. Have been for a few weeks.”

 

“Oh,” Liam mumbles. He was pretty sure Harry only ever visited him at the coffee shop because of it being convenient and close to the studio. “But why?”

 

Harry shrugs. “You were just so cute,” he murmurs, turning the stove off so he can move away from it. Harry stays silent until he’s pressed up between Liam’s thighs, the high chair making them equally tall even when Liam’s sitting down. “I wanted to see you again, so I thought that it would be better if you thought that I was just visiting on my breaks, not commuting all over London to see you for five minutes.”

 

Liam feels a bit like he’s run a mile, his heart speeding in his chest and his skin hot. It’s hard for him to wrap his mind around, Harry doing something like that. “Um,” he stutters out, staring down at Harry’s hands, warm on his thighs even through the fabric of his jeans. “You had me worried there for a moment.”

 

Harry darts forward to press a kiss to his lips, but almost manages to tip Liam over with how unsteady the chair is, and how fast he moves. “Sorry,” he laughs. “So, so sorry.”

 

“Let’s buy you new chairs,” Liam decides, liking the idea of Harry being able to kiss him in the kitchen while he watches him putter around and cook for Liam.

 

“Good idea, yeah,” Harry agrees, placing a kiss so softly on Liam’s lips it’s barely more than a ghost of a touch. Before Liam can demand a do-over, a proper one, Harry moves away from his reach. “First I have food to cook for you, my dear Liam.”

 

“Fine,” Liam grumbles, mostly for show. Sure, he wants Harry to be close to him, to kiss him, but he wants food too, so he shouldn’t complain.

 

\- - -

 

It's been weeks of them sneaking around, with lots of kissing in Harry's car when nobody can them. It's been so quiet and private that he almost falls over in shock when he gets out of Harry's bedroom, and there are three guys on the sofa.

 

He doesn't, but he makes an odd noise in the back of his throat and comes to a sudden stop. He doesn't think they're burglars; they usually don't sit on the sofa drinking their victim's tea.

 

Also, one of them looks weirdly familiar.

 

Liam figures that this must be the three mates Harry likes to tell rambling stories about. He's a bit embarrassed to be almost naked the first time he meets them.

 

"Nice love bite," the one he thinks is Louis says loudly, smirking.

 

Liam slaps his hand over the spot he remembers Harry spending a long time placing biting kisses on, but he might miss. He probably does, if the way they all are looking at him tells him anything.

 

He's glad he at least pulled on his light grey joggers. The marks on his thighs, he might never have lived it down if what he's heard about Harry's friends is true.

 

Maybe especially Louis, he seems to be the one who’s most likely to poke fun at you. In a loving way, according to Harry.

 

"We're like millimeters away from seeing your dick, mate," Niall laughs, and Liam changes his mind. Maybe it's not _just_ Louis.

 

Harry likes them, though, so Liam thinks they must be okay. He relaxes slightly but tries to pull his joggers up without being too obvious about it. He’s not sure why he tries to be discreet about it, though, because they've already seen his pubes.

 

"You should be used to it," Liam says lightly, realising whose friends this is. They should be used to a little bit of nudity. "If you're friends with Harry."

 

"Oh," Louis grins, nodding to himself. "Not just a pretty face then. I might like you after all."

 

"How did you know he had a pretty face?" Niall asks, looking past Zayn sitting between them on the sofa. "Tell me you didn't go to check him out?"

 

Zayn rolls his eyes but manages to look fond at the same time. Like he's used to it. "We all knew he would. Harry bloody well knew he would, but he didn't think it was worth the trouble fighting about it."

 

Louis huffs and crosses his arms over his chest. "I just wanted to make sure you weren’t a golddigger," he tells Liam, and he supposes it's a thing that's happened before with how protective Louis seems to be of Harry. "But you passed."

 

Liam's happy that Louis doesn't think he wants Harry for his money or fame. Still, he's a bit confused by how Louis decided that without even talking to him.

 

"How do you even know?" Zayn asks, clearly wondering the same.

 

Louis laughs, waving a lazy hand towards Liam. His face most likely, Liam thinks.

 

"What?" Liam puts a hand on his face, wondering if he's got something on it. Blushing a sharp pink, he hopes it's not dried come from the night before.

 

"I'm wondering that too," Harry mumbles as he drapes himself over Liam's back, scaring him half to death. "What are they doing here?" He's talking close to Liam's neck, lips dragging against his skin as he wraps his arms around Liam's belly.

 

"They're your friends," Liam teases, turning his head until he can see Harry's sleepy smile and his loose, messy curls.

 

"Hi," Harry murmurs softly. He smacks a kiss to Liam's cheek, tilting his head further so he can press one to his lips, too.

 

Liam hums softly, parting his lips for Harry's tongue. The groans from the sofa, he ignores. Harry's kisses are much more important, and so are his fingertips tracing the trail of hair below Liam’s belly button.

 

“Yeah. I say we go before we see something we can’t unsee,” Liam hears someone say, very, very distantly. He thinks it’s Niall, but he can’t be sure since he never stops kissing Harry.

 

\- - -

 

Liam’s curled up against Harry’s side, with his head pillowed on his chest. He should be sleeping, but one thing’s been on his mind since Harry’s mates left. “I didn’t know you told anyone,” he says, tipping his head up so he can see Harry. It just feels like an important conversation, and he kind of wants to see if Harry thinks so, too. “About us, you know.”

 

Harry frowns, and he looks almost sad for a moment before he closes off. “Why wouldn’t I?”

 

“Well,” Liam mumbles, not sure what he said to make Harry so tense underneath him. “Because you’re _you_.”

 

It doesn’t seem like Harry gets it, the only reaction Liam does get is a weird grimace.

 

“I meant,” Liam stresses, not wanting to make Harry even more upset. “You could have anyone. Why would you settle for me?”

 

“I’m not settling for you.” Harry strokes his hand down Liam’s side until he can take hold of his hand, squeezing hard as if he wants to keep him there, making him listen. “You’re sweet and hot, and you laugh at my jokes, babe.”

 

Liam feels a tiny bit stupid; it was Harry who asked him out. Who has texted him, and called him when he’s had only a few minutes to spare. Liam should have realised it wasn’t just for fun. It was never just for fun for him either. He’s relieved and so happy he could burst from all the emotions in his body.

 

“So is it okay to tell people now?” Harry asks, careful and soft. “I mean, people that’s aren’t my mates.”

 

“Sure,” Liam agrees, already thinking of what he’s going to tell his mum and his sisters. It’s not going to be a problem. He really doesn’t think so. They’ll love Harry, just like he’s pretty certain he does.

 

“And I’m allowed to call you my boyfriend?” Harry wonders, with a hint of worry in his voice.

 

Liam sits straight up in bed, staring down at Harry with wide eyes. It’s a shock to hear that word out loud, but it’s a good kind of shock. Liam did just admit to being more than a little bit in love with Harry, after all, even if it was just in his own head.

 

“Fuck yes,” he says happily, flopping down on Harry’s chest so hard he makes a small, hurt noise. “Sorry. I'm so sorry.”

 

“It’s alright,” Harry grins, sounding far too happy for someone who just almost got crushed underneath his boyfriend’s weight.

 

 _Boyfriend_ , Liam thinks. Harry is his boyfriend. How amazing is that to think about, the two of them planning a future together. “I think I’m in love with you,” Liam murmurs softly, pressing a kiss to one of the swallows on Harry’s chest.

 

Harry’s hand comes to a sudden stop on his side, like he’s forgotten about it all together. “Me too.”

 

“You’re in love with yourself too?” Liam jokes. Even when his heart is about to beat out of his chest with how happy he is, it feels like.

 

“Ha ha,” Harry drawls, fingers digging into the sensitive skin below Liam’s ribs. “So funny, you are not.”

 

Liam giggles, trying to fend off Harry’s hands tickling him. When he doesn’t manage, he tries another tactic. “Please stop,” he chokes out. “I’ll wake you up with a blowjob tomorrow.”

 

It does the trick, Harry’s fingers stop moving almost at once, and Liam can finally breathe properly again - if a bit shaky.

 

“We should get to sleep then.” Harry moves around until he’s spooning Liam, his chin resting on his shoulder. “We’ve got stuff to do tomorrow.”

 

Liam hums, closing his eyes. There’s no need to tell Harry that he would have sucked him off nevertheless. But then again, he’s pretty sure Harry knows that anyway.

 

\- - -

 

Liam wakes up because of his phone, buzzing with text messages. His mind is still blurry with sleep when he reaches for it on the nightstand, but he wakes up fast when he sees that he’s got several missed calls from his mum.

 

Harry’s still sleeping next to him, so he takes the phone out in the hall to avoid waking him up. Even when worried, he can’t help to think that Harry’s cute like that, all messy hair and marks from the pillow on his cheek.

 

It’s when he notices that’s the first text from his mum has Harry’s name in it, the worry is replaced by confusion. _How does his mum even know about that?_

 

That’s question is easily answered when he sees the Instagram photo Harry posted late last night, his face is clearly visible, and the caption reads, _“He said yes. No, no don’t worry mum. I’ve not asked him to marry me yet. I make sure to tell you about that before it happens.”_

Liam clearly remembers that Ruth follows Harry, and she must have told their mum. Who, in turn, must have told _everybody_ else they know. And have ever met, it seems like, from the amount of messages he has on his phone.

 

“Oh,” Liam mumbles, fondness filling his chest. Harry’s the biggest sap ever to walk the earth, he’s pretty sure.

 

He stands there staring at the text underneath the photo of himself for a few minutes, wondering if he should be scared when thinking of how fast things are going between him and Harry.

 

He’s not, he realises quickly. He’s not scared of the commitment or meeting Harry’s mum. The only thing he’s scared of when it comes to the two of them has to be waking up without Harry next to him.

 

As he gets back in bed next to Harry, sheets sleep-warm from Harry’s skin, he gently shakes him awake. He waits for him to blink his eyes open before he grins down at him with a raised eyebrow.

 

“It seems like we have to postpone that morning blow-job,” Liam teases, still with the phone in his hand.

 

“Postpone. That's a fancy word,” Harry mumbles sleepily, rubbing a hand over his face. Then he frowns and mouths the word ‘postpone’ to himself. “But why?”

 

“Since we’ve got to call our mums and tell them that we’re not getting married, or whatever.” Liam tries to keep a straight face, but the grins build as he talks. Just thinking of one day maybe getting to tell his mum that he’s getting married to Harry for real makes him so happy he barely can keep it inside of him.

 

Harry grins, sheepishly. “Oops?”

 

“I don’t mind,” Liam tells him, softly. “But I’m pretty sure your publicist does, so you should probably call her too.”

 

Liam’s right about them having to spend the rest of the morning on their phones. Liam gets  shouted at by his sisters. They’re happy for him, just very excited. His mum cries over the phone, bubbling about her little boy growing up so fast until his dad takes over the call.

 

There’s no time for morning-blowjobs, but Liam supposes they have all the time in the world for that. It feels pretty obvious, when Harry sees a future for them were they at some point get married. If he lets himself think about it, Liam sees it too. Both the blowjobs and the wedding.

  
  



End file.
